


See How My Blood Runs Blue

by TotallyHuman



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, There's some plot in there, bad summary, choke kink, fight me about it, mostly I'm writing this to do age diff rhack, smut to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallyHuman/pseuds/TotallyHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every five years Hyperion sponsors four young adults who're advanced engineers, scientists, designers - anything that has exceptional potential for Hyperion - and brings them to Helios where they compete for an all expenses paid internship at Hyperion the next year with a guaranteed position. For every young and ambitious or dreaming genius, the sponsorship is every star they’d ever wished on.</p><p>For the first time in over two decades, a Pandoran makes the cut for a position in the ranking. Rhys has worked his entire life for this sponsorship, preparing endlessly for it. What he wants is to get to the top, and this is Rhys' only ticket there.</p><p>Although, if Handsome Jack suddenly takes a unique interest in Rhys - he's all too happy to oblige.</p><p>What Rhys wants is to get to the top.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not able to get to the smut yet, but... soon...
> 
> I hope this appeals to y'all. I'm actually genuinely feeling this fic and am enjoying writing it as opposed to so many others I begin and then falter with, like, immediately after. So yeah. If there are any glaring vocab/grammar errors in this I appreciate the point out, other than that I'm not really looking for concrit.

The first thing brought to Rhys’ attention as he approached the shuttle to Helios was the anticipatory twist of nausea in his stomach. Rhys had hoped his motion sickness wouldn’t make a surprise visit, but having never flown - especially not through space - it seemed determined to protest the ordeal.

Rhys swallowed down the sensations, though, and squared his shoulders, raising his head as he strode past the uniformed Hyperion soldiers guarding the ship's ramp.

For a moment, when Rhys had first stepped off the caravan at the pick-up site, he had been stunned at the sight of the dozen soldiers posted around the small shuttle. Sure, Fiona, Sasha, and he had had their fair share of close meetings with Hyperion - and Atlas, before they were completely crushed - soldiers before. But they had never been around so many, so close, without sneaking around or being spotted and immediately shot at.

“Look at you, hot shot.” Fiona had said behind him, leaning in the caravan doorway. “Being fetched with guards like precious cargo. Knew you were worth something all those years ago. Even if it means you’re being shipped off to become some Hyperion corporate parasite.” Fiona says with only mild malice, Rhys takes the flattery that she didn’t seem to have any doubt in him, and shook his head at her remark.

“This is it, Fiona. Once I do this, I’m going to get you two off this planet.” Rhys shrugged. “And Hyperion? That’s the place to achieve power, the central hub of respect and awe to get ahead in. And I am going to, I refuse not to after everything we’ve been through.” Rhys said genuinely, meeting Fiona’s gaze head on in silence that didn’t last very long.

Sasha then barged through the doorway with Rhys’ suitcase in tow. “Hug already, Jeez! Emotionally stunted skags.” Sasha piped before she threw Rhys’ bag to the ground. Before Rhys could voice his shrill outrage that she would do such a thing, Sasha tossed her arms around Rhys’ neck and squeezed, on her tiptoes to do so.

Rhys didn’t hesitate in hugging Sasha back, burrowing his head into her shoulder.

“Don’t you dare forget about us up there with the other stars, Rhys.” Sasha murmured and for a moment Rhys thought things might actually get emotional. Mushy emotional. Then, Sasha leaned back and punched Rhys in the shoulder. “You still owe me for that last card game, cheater.” The two of them bubbled with laughter shortly before disentangling from one another.

Sasha stepped aside to make room for Fiona. Their hug was more brief than Rhys and Sasha’s, but Rhys could still feel the sentiment simmering in it. This would be the first time since they met nine years ago that they would be really, truly be separated voluntarily.

“Once you win this thing and become all mighty, let’s go eat on Eden-5.” Fiona smirks. “Knock ‘em on their asses, Rhys.” Fiona said, moving back into the caravan along with Sasha who turned to give a lingering goodbye wave to Rhys, which he returned. Rhys kept his back to the caravan with a collected expression when they drove away.

The inside of the shuttle was thoughtfully compact. A few seats lined each wall, but it’s clear that Rhys will be riding alone. A small closed door on the wall opposite the entrance must be the cockpit.

As Rhys settles into the middle seat to his left, one of the guards close the hatch behind him. Rhys straps his bag into the seat beside himself first before buckling in, trying hard to ignore the arguing flips his stomach is performing.

 _He’s going to Helios_ , Rhys thinks in an attempt at distraction. _To compete for a career in Hyperion._ Because Rhys, a self-taught _pandoran_ , is intelligent enough to hold his ground against prodigies from Eden-5 and wealthy, privileged children of those ‘corporate parasites.’ Rhys had triumphed over thousands of groomed applicants with rough drafts drawn up and prototypes he had thrown together when he was fourteen. He had decided upon entry to save his newest, most innovative ideas for the actual game.

For if he actually made it.

But Rhys had always known that he would. Ever since Felix first showed him the Hyperion sponsorship for “The Brightest Young Adults.” Rhys had been pre-occupied with planning and preparing for the sponsorship to bother Felix while he trained Fiona and Sasha, which Rhys is sure had been the old man’s goal. And while he’d had to wait six years, Rhys is grateful that he’d had the time to flesh out everything for it.

And now? Now, Rhys’ plans and patience have come to fruition. Now he’s going to have Hyperion resources at his disposal. Now he’s going to have an _audience_.

The thoughts almost coax Rhys into a nap. Except then the shuttle rocks slightly and Rhys nearly jumps out of his skin, his stomach churning sickly. Instead, Rhys settles on staring out the small circular window at the deep, twinkling expanse of space.

⇝⇜

When the shuttle finally lowers onto the docking bay of Helios, Rhys’ whole body flushed with relief. Rhys isn’t sure exactly how much time the flight took, but he’s sure it couldn’t have been more than forty five minutes to an hour. Every second of which Rhys spent clutching the armrests with white knuckles and focusing on not throwing up.

Unbuckling himself and then his suitcase, Rhys approached the front hatch of the shuttle. He paused for a moment to inhale deeply and then pulled the release lever.

The hatch huffed as it opened up, allowing Rhys to step through it with his bag, which he set down beside him. All around Rhys, Hyperion is a buzzing hive of work. Crafts zip efficiently through the Helios’ atmosphere, soldiers and people mingle on the docking bay while directing others, and for thousands of floors above Rhys’ head lights flash and buzz. Nothing is still. Except for Rhys, frozen in awe. Everything is different from Pandora.

It’s expected, but, well.

Rhys cocked his head to the left, taking in the three other identical spacecrafts lined up beside his as well as the three other sponsees already striding off towards a group of five who seem to be awaiting them a dozen feet in front of the row of shuttles.

Aware that he is lagging, Rhys sped up. Pulling up his ECHOeye menu as he began to walk, Rhys quickly commands the chip in his suitcase. As Rhys approaches the batch of Hyperion employees his suitcase automatically follows suit behind him.

The sponsee closest to Rhys also had a similar setup it seems, though with the panel on it’s side, it seems he has to manually start it. Rhys’ mouth upturns a little, perpetually pleased with the upper hand his ECHOeye gives him. The one after that sponsee is simply carrying her own two bags, and the one after that is snapping at a guard he has apparently ordered to hold his copious amount of bags from small to large. Rhys doesn’t bother to try and count.

However, Rhys’ menial suitcase trick is not nearly enough to disguise the difference in prestige between him and the other three. The closest male, the one who's suitcase mod is almost as good as Rhys,' is dressed in khaki chinos and a pale blue button-up, no tie, with the sleeves rolled up. His blond hair is smoothed with an abundance of gel to one side. He screams the term… ‘daddy’s money’ in every facet of his being and with one look Rhys can’t stand him, but self-consciously runs a hand through his hair anyways. With how he does it so often, Rhys’ hair naturally smooths back, sometimes with not much control though, so before he left Pandora he used the last of Fiona’s styling gel(which he can’t wait to hear an earful about). He seems to be about Rhys’ height, but with his broader shoulders and better build, he has the illusion of being taller.

The female standing beside him is average height. Her brunette hair is braided back and pulled into an elegant bun, her lips a bright, eye-catching red. She’s wearing an expensive outfit - a navy blue skirt and blazer that probably cost more than Rhys’ entire life. She seethes determination and has a vibe that demands respect, and makes you want to give it.

And then the male on end is probably an inch or two shorter than Rhys. He isn’t hunched over with his head down or quivering. But for some reason he seems to be meek, and Rhys eyes nearly glide away from him twice because of more interesting things in the background. He’s wearing an untucked button-up as well, his black pants have an expensive brand embroidered into the side of them.

And, of course, there’s Rhys. Pushing a hand through his hair once again. He’s wearing white cargo pants he took from August, a grey sweater he’s been saving in plastic wrap for the past two years and a vest in generally good condition he found on a skeleton a few months ago. Also, of course, the skag-skin boots he saved real money for three months to buy. Not stealing them was a subject Fiona had joked about for several months following the purchase. But, then Rhys has his right arm.

Or, he doesn’t - technically. Oh, the puns.

The metal machine that is Rhys’ right arm is always a show stopper. It’s something that he had built when he had first lost the limb, and only improved throughout the years. Fiona, Sasha, and he used to go out scavenging fallen soldiers and old bases for tech, anything that would be useful to Rhys. The mechanics of the arm were surprisingly superb for being crafted completely out of scraps by a kid with absolutely no formal schooling. In fact, Rhys is more proud of his arm than anything else on his body. Except, perhaps, for his ECHOeye and skag boots. But still, it was an impressive piece that functioned with ease. He was even working on installing a projector in its palm so he can transmit to it from his ECHOeye.

The four sponsees were formed half oval, and the five Hyperion employees formed the other half of the shape so that they could all clearly look at each other. But all them were peering at Rhys. Their eyes flickered over Rhys’ form, his outfit, his face - that made Rhys’ chest feel concave. But then their gazes all caught one by one on his mechanical arm. They all tried to keep their expressions indifferent, but Rhys could feel them radiating curiosity. Although, the blond male beside Rhys also radiated a petulant disgust for him. It's a look that's viewing Rhys as though he's marring the beauty of Helios.

Maybe he is. Either way, Rhys stands up straighter and gives his most polite smile to the blond male. The guy’s upper lip curls a bit, one of his eyebrows raising.

One of the employees clears their throat, immediately garnering everyone’s attention. The female is surprisingly young, a year or two older than Rhys. “It’s a pleasure to meet the four of you.” She says, both hands clasped together. “My name is Yvette. I’m a Hyperion employee, obviously.” Yvette introduces herself. The female is probably one of the most attractive Rhys has ever seen - and she it's clear knows it as she stands in front of the four of them.

The four eighteen year olds peer at the several other Hyperion-marked entities standing on either side of Yvette with confusion. “They’re interns, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Yvette clarifies, reading their minds.

“How are interns going to help do anything around this place?” The blond spoke up, arms crossed over his chest pompously as he regarded the interns like they were now below him. Like his question was a gift.

While Blond Guy established his snobbish personality further, Rhy caught the eye of the intern standing across from him. The guy was short, really short, it was kind of funny. The thick-frame glasses on his face, slouch, and button-up + hexagonal patterned vest outfit he was rocking pulled him into the perfect picture of “nerd.” Rhys had never seen someone fit the stereotype he had read about in a comic as a kid. Not like this intern did. But, he was sporting a thin and decent goatee that Rhys could support.

The intern smiled at Rhys, and Rhys gave a friendly smile back absentmindedly. Rhys caught the sideways glance from Yvette and upturn of her lips when he returned his attention to her as she answered Blond Guy’s question. “They’ve been here for the past four and a half months…” Yvette trails off, looking down at the info comm in her hands. “Garrett,” The name sounds unimpressive as it rolls off her tongue, and Rhys thinks he sees actual offense on Garrett's face beside him. “You’ve never even stepped foot on Helios before today. They know the protocols, etiquette, how to navigate-” Yvette stares at Garrett pointedly, the blond male trying hard not to seem perturbed by the tables turning. “All of which, you do not. If you’re rude to me or any of these interns under my supervision you will be buying me lunch for the next year and a half.” Yvette finished, a hand falling to her hip as she raises an eyebrow at him - as if waiting for the male to say something else. Garret didn't dare to, smartly enough. “And I will make your time here a whole lot harder. Alright? Alright.”

“Grayson Caulibard-” Yvette addresses the unremarkable boy at the end of their group. “Monty here will be your assisting intern.” Her head then turns to the brunette, announcing her name to be Constantine Ellighen as one stocky male intern approaches Grayson. Jabbing a finger in the direction of the raven haired female beside her, Yvette introduces the intern as Herrah - who goes to shake the female sponsees hand. Then she turns towards Garrett ‘Amadaya’ once again with disinterest. An intern with shoulder-length hair named Alberry is Garrett’s intern. Finally, all that’s left is Rhys and the nerdy intern across from him.

Rhys steps forward with a grin, side-eyeing Garrett who’s now standing off half a dozen feet from them frowning profusely as Alberry bumbles to him. “That was-”

“A courtesy? I know. Those Eden-5 rich children always get on my nerves.” Yvette says, approaching Rhys and the last intern directly as though they’d known each other since they were kids.

“Are you allowed to extort the sponsees for lunch, Yvette?” The intern asks, looking up at the powerful female and fixing his glasses, an amused smile on his face.

“Of course I can. I do it to you, too." Yvette snickers. "I’m scary to these guys, and this is Hyperion. Threatening to strong arm lunch from a wealthy kid is the least offensive thing we’ve done in the past hour.” Yvette replies with a soft, self-pleased chuckle. Her eyes fix on Rhys, who gives a short, unexpectedly awkward laugh reflexively. Thankfully Yvette seems to brush it off. “Rhys -” She pauses as she looks at her projected comm screen, and Rhys already knows why.

“No last name, yeah. They don’t really keep those kinds of records on Pandora, y’know? They’re pretty busy with all the, uh, bandit rampages and theft.” Rhys says, one arm reaching to scratch the back of his neck despite it not itching.

“Well, Just Rhys, this is Vaughn.” Yvette replies instead, not seeming to regard the fact of Rhys’ absent surname as another reason why Pandora is trash and he with it. It’s relieving. While the other sponsees hadn’t been as forward with their opinions of Rhys as Garrett was - purely through facial expressions too, which was kind of impressive - Rhys could still tell that they were bombarded with every piece of news and story about Pandora.

Rhys should be wearing a psycho mask and chasing them while trying to cut out their eyes and eat them.

Vaughn gives Rhys that same instantly friendly smile, holding out his hand. “Hey there, man, nice to have your help.” Rhys says, taking the grip. Vaughn has a taken aback look on his face as the metal of Rhys’ hand makes contact with the flesh of his, Rhys can see the slight jump and widening of his eyes.

Vaughn himself seems to catch this too. “Oh, uh, sorry - it’s just that, like, that’s really cool, bro.” Vaughn says. Rhys is dead silent for a moment before letting out a quiet burst of laughter. Even Yvette seems entertained. At this point Rhys is certain that Vaughn is the same age as him, at most nineteen. “I’m serious, bro.” Vaughn reiterates, dropping his hand.

Rhys rolls the metal arm on its joint. “Yeah?” He smirks. “I made it myself.” Rhys informs, and Yvette’s eyebrows both raise along with Vaughn’s.

“Alone?”

“No, I asked a couple psychos to help me out and they were pretty good sports about it.” Rhys responds as the other two exchange glances. “That was a joke.” And then all three of them are bubbling with laughter.

It takes a moment for Rhys to notice that the other sponsees and their interns are watching them speculatively. Their eyes flicker between Yvette and then Rhys and Vaughn as if they just watched a bullymong and a skag hug.

Taking her cue, Yvette nods to Rhys and Vaughn and turns to address the group as a whole. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that they looked as though on friendly terms, and Rhys likes that.

“Alright, you guys. It’s time to meet the designated program head.” Yvette says, turning to begin strutting towards one entrance of Helios. All eight of them trailing behind her. Then, very casually, Yvette adds: “Oh, and Handsome Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can follow me on tumblr @galaxynoxious if you're interested and/or want to tell me to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, alright - this chapter turned out to be longer than I thought even though I wanted to get to the smut fairly quickly. But, yeah. Soon, though. 
> 
> I'm receiving such positive feedback! You guys are too nice, honestly, I wasn't really expecting much when I first thought up the fic and I am sooo happy that it's hitting some buttons for you guys. 
> 
> Also, did I mention that the title for the fic was taken from "Dreamy Bruises" by Sylvan Esso? I should've.

The resounding silence left in the wake of Yvette’s statement is infinite between everyone in the group. Around Rhys, the others seem to falter in their steps. His might’ve as well but he doesn’t dwell on it. Beside him, Rhys can see Vaughn’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows at the name.

In all honesty, Rhys doubted he would see Handsome Jack at all during the course of the competition - let alone be on his way to a face-to-face meeting twenty minutes after reaching Helios. He had suspected they’d be judged by a set group of executives. At best they’d have a pre-recorded video message from the sensational CEO. But not this. Although, the program has spawned some of the most progressive lines for Hyperion. Stuff that expanded the investor pool for the corporation and increased funding enthusiasm for the R&D department. So maybe Rhys had underestimated Handsome Jack’s ability to take personal interest in the program.

Handsome Jack in himself has always been somewhat of an infatuation for Rhys. Though he likes to use of the term _very_ loosely. An odd person for a pandoran to admire, Rhys knows. But the man has always enchanted Rhys, regardless. Not like Fiona and Sasha, who grew increasingly livid under any subject even remotely Hyperion - which had been the most arduous part of prepping for the sponsorship. Every tall-tale, every scorned, hate-filled account of his newest expedition, every news story plastered about the radio waves - it all made Rhys daydream endlessly about Handsome Jack and his willingness to do whatever it takes. It probably didn’t help that he fueled his _fixation_ , ugh, with Handsome Jack at night, when the daydreams evolved into immoral urges.

Rhys had had to put a cap on his interest a few years back when Fiona found a Handsome Jack propaganda poster in his things. That was an odd one to talk his way out of.

“Through here.” Yvette directs. A metal door slides open to let them inside Helios.

The first inhale of oxygen inside of Helios feels like inhaling the musk from blood of an indestructible beast. It sizzles heavily with the wonder of power as it settles in Rhys’ chest, thumping in his veins. Look at where he is. Rhys’ lips pulled into a subdued but fiery smile. God, he is so ready to do this.

Several staff workers are waiting just behind the door for them, and when they walk inside they begin to take Rhys and the other sponsees bags. The man that the sponsee male on the end, Caulibard, had initially ordered to carry his bags seems supremely grateful for the help. Rhys had almost completely forgotten the strictness with which Caulibard had ordered the man to hold the bags, especially once his eyes had actually fallen on Caulibard and pinned him as close to ‘harmless’ - though Rhys refused to formally label him as such, not in a competition. Rhys made a mental note and set it aside.

Rhys pulls up the ECHOeye menu a second time, disabling the suitcase in only a second before it was gone. But it took the same span of time to see Garrett, standing a couple feet from Rhys with his own intern, assessing Rhys with another abject look.

“An ECHOeye? How’d you manage to get technology like that?” Garrett says, derisiveness poignant in his haughty tone. The other male’s eyes scythe across Rhys, and Garrett’s thoughts are practically written across his forehead - that Rhys shouldn’t have nor deserve the advanced tech in his head.

With an amused huff Rhys replies, “Try not to let that green envy show too much, Garrett. The color doesn’t compliment you, and it’s an adolescent and weak emotion.” He hums, looking away once he finishes and not bothering to even see the other’s reaction. The gratification Rhys feels from the quip is plenty to sate him.

Yvette continues to lead them down a long corridor, taking a turn that opens abruptly into an open space. “The hub of heroism,” Yvette informs them. Like outside, people here are mingling and hustling about from place to place, in and out, through doors and into elevators. But also they’re lounging about in chairs alone or in groups, chatting over their phone, or sipping coffee and eating salads. The space seems to function as a multi-faceted recreational medium.

“I can’t prepare any of you.” Yvette says flatly ahead of them as they make their way down a short flight of stairs. Hyperion employees are shooting their group various looks from pity to surprise as they make their way across the court - towards an elevator in the center of the area. “But you should comply with any and all instructions given to you.” She actually pauses to turn back to them as she says this outside of the elevator entrance, enunciating carefully as she jabs the button beside the metal doors, like she was explaining it to children. Neither Rhys or any of the others rebuke Yvette’s advice. “The interns and I will not accompany your sorry asses up but we will be here when you come back down.” Yvette states, face pulled into the slightly mischievous mold that Rhys suspects is simply her neutral expression.

Rhys glances towards the other sponsees as they do the same, all of them sharing a mixture of emotions as the elevator dings and the doors slide apart.

At first none of them make a move, but then Rhys simply huffs and strides forward. He waves at Vaughn who nods nervously at Rhys before the doors shut on them.

 

⇝⇜

 

A daunting hallway stretches from the elevator into what is presumably the main space of Jack’s office. It’s an off-putting sight that makes Rhys’ left hand feel clammy all of a sudden.

Rhys and the other three interns all begin to exit more or less at the same time, nudging shoulders as they slowly stepped out of the elevator with tedious steps. All of their steps have little clicking noises attached to them, and Rhys is especially thankful he saved up for an expensive pair of boots. It made him fit in with the others in, yes, a wildly unimportant way, but in a way nonetheless.

The four of them trek forward uncertainly but with the fact in mind that this is their only way to go, now.

“God, are you guys going to be this slow the entire time? Because lemme tell you, that’s just not going to be fun.” Jack’s voice is on an intercom in the hall, somewhere hidden behind the walls but loud and startling. “Well, I mean, for you.” Jack chimes with a quiet snicker before the sound of the intercom cutting out signals he’s done addressing them. All four of their paces pick up and in less than a minute they’re striding into Jack’s main office.

The office is huge, larger than necessary - but fitting for Handsome Jack. The lights are all turned down to a dim glow. It allows for the full impact of the view of Elpis through the wall of windows behind Jack’s desk, elevated a bit above them with a flight of stairs leading up to it.

And there, standing in front of it with his back turned to them is Handsome Jack. In the flesh.  Rhys inhales as if he’s looking at the most beautifully crafted gun ever. In some ways, staring up at Handsome Jack, Rhys knows that he is.

“Well,” Handsome Jack breathes, setting a glass down on his desk and turning on his heel to face Rhys and the other three. All four stop side by side in a row as they watch Handsome Jack. A small table to the right beside Caulibard holds several comm devices. “Look at you all, right here, in front of _me_.” Jack says, beaming with pearly teeth and taking languid steps down the stairs in their direction. Rhys is standing between Ellighen and Caulibard now, and Garrett stands on the furthest left end of them, where Jack approaches first.

“Handsome Jack, sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Garrett begins, voice polite and charming. “I believe you know my father. He’s quite a major investor -”

“Wow, alright, _shut up_."  Jack cuts Garrett off seconds after he begins to talk. Rhys has to forcibly resist the urge to lean forward to see the look on Garrett’s face and grin maliciously. It actually kind of hurts - the restraint, but it would probably seem childish. “I would’ve brought the drink over here with me if I knew you were going to talk like some lame presentation lackey or whatever.” Jack sighs, taking a step past Garrett to Ellighen.

She holds still, standing straight with both of her hands clasped behind her back. “Nice lipstick. What’s your name?” He tacks the question blandly onto his opening statement, and Rhys can practically feel the way she’s beginning to deflate as she offers up her full name. Handsome Jack’s eyes drop across her nearly as quick as they had Garrett. “At least your miniature rover prototype and engineering design skills outweigh the insult the color is doing to your face.” Ellighen pauses for a moment, then brings herself back up to standing with posture far better than the males around her. “Do you think you can win?” Jack asks her with an inspective tone. Another pause. “I can make you money.” Ellighen says. Jack lets out a round of laughter right in front of her and then nods. “Correct answer, Ellie!” He says in a congratulatory tone.

And then Handsome Jack is in front of Rhys, staring at him straight on and making Rhys’ chest feel tight. “Who’re you?”

“Rh-” Rhys’ voice goes hoarse for a millisecond and he clears his throat. “Rhys.” He concludes, swallowing thickly.

“Just Rhys?” Jack asks, eyeing Rhys with an expression that reads ‘entertain me.’ His head tilts ever so slightly. “You - you’re that applicant from Pandora.” He says, eyes glimmering.

The man’s eyes are drawn to Rhys’ arm first. When Jack’s hand reaches toward his right limb, Rhys reflexively twitches it away. Jack doesn’t hesitate in reaching for it and Rhys immediately catches his involuntary reaction to offer his wrist to Jack. There’s a hint of displeasure at Rhys’ action across Jack’s face but it dissipates as he looks over Rhys’ arm with interest that is quickly inflating his ego. “How did you lose it?” Jack questions in a monotone, turning the arm over and bending as he watches the joints swivel and metal muscle move.

“A skag. But a bandit had already started the job.” Rhys gave the synopsis plainly. It was a part of his past that altered Rhys’ existence, made mechanics and tech necessary rather than just the pass time it had been when he was nine. But the visual memory itself was unpleasant and Rhys never delved into that part, only what it brought him.

“Nice. It’s a piece of shit but,” Rhys feels himself pale at Handsome Jack’s words. “But I guess considering you made it on pandora - pretty damn cool, kiddo. I’ll have some men assist you on making it better, and maybe even impressive.” Rhy eyes fall, downcast to the floor beneath his boots. “Hey - hey, what are you doing?” Jack says. A hand is suddenly holding Rhys' chin to jerk his head back up. Jack is going to continue, but he opts for letting his eyes roam more indulgently across the bright blue of Rhys’ ECHOeye and the neuroport drilled into his temple. Making a ‘hmph’ sound deep in his chest, Jack turns Rhys’ head to the right so he can get a better look without reluctance on Rhys’ part. It wasn’t like he was going to be able to stop him, even if Rhys wanted to. “Da-ha-hamn, kiddo. Where’d you get the ECHOeye down there on that trash bin planet.”

It’s now the Rhys realizes he’s been holding his breath. He doesn’t exhale as he replies in a rushed, thin voice. “A woman named Vallory. She had some ex-Atlas surgeons working for her at the time. I’d- I’d already lost the thing, so she offered to have them install it for some help.”

For an endless minute Handsome Jack is just staring at Rhys. Jack turns Rhys’ head again to meet his gaze, mismatched eyes staring into mismatched eyes. “Alright.” Jack says, not finished, “Do you think you should be scared?” Handsome Jack asks. Rhys registers that it’s a test. That he should be careful.

That doesn’t stop him from answering: “No.” And seeing Jack’s eyes harden with promises that don’t need to be spoken aloud for Rhys to know that they’re all grisly ends from horrific means. “I-I-I mean,” _Oh no_. “well - obviously we should be scared of you.” _Shit, shit, shit_. “You wouldn’t ask if that’s what you meant, it’d be a - a stupid question.” Now one of Jack’s eyebrows raise with interest and Rhys laughs nervously and continues. “But scared here? Now? All four of us have ideas and plans, hinted in -- hinted in what we sent in to get the positions. You want those ideas.” Rhys could have elaborated but decided to consolidate his air. He exhaled once he was done, feeling Jack’s hand fall from his chin to a light, unthreatening clasp on the side of Rhys throat.

 _“Smart_ _answer, cupcake._ ” Jack says lowly.

Jack’s eyes gloss one last time over Rhys before he moves on to Caulibard. Rhys is distantly aware of their voices though, the conversation beside him a smudge as it wafted into his ears and got lost in the white noise of Rhys’ brain. Rhys blinked as he replayed the interaction he’d just had with Jack. Handsome Jack.

Only when Handsome Jack’s voice rang out louder and more demanding did Rhys get snapped back to his feet.

“You kids -” Jack says grandly as he makes his way back up the steps towards his desk. “You’re going to do great things for me.” One of Handsome Jack’s hands snatches the stout glass of dark liquid from his desktop where it’s been sitting. He turns around to lean against the desk as he takes a sip before shrugging. “One of you might die, that’s -” A short laugh interjects his words. “That’s pretty much always a possibility. But, honestly, you guys are never that much fun to kill.” Jack admits, his eyes gliding over to stare openly at Rhys. “Rhysie over there made a very good point. And also revealed some of my strategy here. It kind of pisses me off, but honestly, jeez, I totally thought it was gonna go right over your head. I’m not usually a good sport about surprises, either.” Jack says, taking another drink, his body shaking with a poorly suppressed chuckle.

Rhys and the others are all silent as they wait through a lull for Handsome Jack to continue. When he does all four of them jolt. “What are you doing? Go, get out, I’ve got other things to do. The the first trials start on Monday so until then occupy your damn selves.” Jack snaps at them. “Take a comm too, it’s standard Hyperion issue. It’s what will be used to contact you four and give updates.”

Ellighen, Garrett, and Caulibard all turn and start towards the corridor, obediently picking up a comm from the desk to the right as they did so. Rhys, however, lingers for a reason that surely isn’t enough to justify it. Handsome Jack peers up from his glass. The man’s lips curl in a way that Rhys can’t figure out if it’s a grimace or smirk that adorns Jack’s features. Without Rhys accessing it, his ECHOeye hud pops up. _[Handsome Jack is now added to your contacts]_ is displayed across his vision and Rhys’ eyes snap to focus on Jack, where a similar glowing screen is projected in the dull shadows around the man’s face.

Rhys is pretty sure his eyes are nearly popping out of his head as he hastily grabs a comm and heads into the corridor along with the others, feeling his cheeks burning. Rhys suspects the comm is more of a formality for him, now.

 

⇝⇜

 

Rhys is still reeling about the meeting thirty minutes later as he and Vaughn walked behind the other six on the way to their assigned suites. He kept looking at Handsome Jack’s contact blankly. Jack had just hacked into Rhys’ ECHOeye. Like it was nothing. Granted, Rhys hadn’t updated his firewall for a few months now - but still. Then, he’d put his personal contact into Rhys’ database.

What the _fuck_ is that shit? What is Rhys supposed to do with _that_?

Rhys knows exactly what to do, actually.

“And man, we can totally go down to the outfitters in sector 34 to pick you up some better - uh, hem, m-more clothes.” Vaughn says beside Rhys, making the taller male divert his attention back to him.

“Were you going to insult my wardrobe? Because I’ll let you know, pal, that down on Pandora -” Rhys starts before Yvette is cutting in.

“Down on Pandora it’s hard to find clothes without blood and months of dirt soaked into them. And, Rhys, it’s real impressive - what you’ve managed to find, but you’re going to need to throw all of it out.” Rhys jumped at Yvette’s intrusion but eased back quickly as Vaughn snorted.

“Thanks, Yvette. And the boots -”

“Oh-ho, no. Nope. I am keeping these boots, no matter what.” Rhys said firmly, not willing to waver on one of the few legitimate purchases he’s made himself.

With a rolls of her eyes that Yvette doesn’t even try to disguise she continues. “Alright, alright. Remind me to find you a medal for being the most stubborn person ever about poor fashion sense.”

Rhys shoots her a feigned-scathing look as he stalks forward, hoping they would reach the suites soon. “Aren’t you supposed to be our tour guide or something?” He replies smugly, an eyebrow raising as Yvette returns his earlier look. She wears it a lot better.

“I was only the leading the reception, to give the interns an idea of how they should operate. Now I’m just a regular scary employee. Not a tour guide.” She smiles, bumping Vaughn a little with her hip, making the small man jostle Rhys as well. “Just a lady hanging out with her best pal.” Yvette grins, and so does Vaughn. Vaughn even turns to look at Rhys with the same smile, along with Yvette, like he could be included in their friendship. It seems like a club too exclusive for Rhys here on Helios, but he can’t help but feel hopeful about the idea of having some people here he can count on like Fiona and Sasha.

“Here’s your stop.” Vaughn announces outside a room labeled 1014.

Vaughn and Yvette add Rhys to their contacts and they decide that tomorrow they’re going to go to replace Rhys’ wardrobe. Apparently since Rhys is in the sponsored competition, they’re not going to charge him - which Yvette says also means that it’s Rhys’ account they’ll be getting lunch under after they’re done. Rhys agrees and gives the two of them fist bumps before heading into his room.

The silence after shutting the door being himself completely envelopes Rhys as his eyes roam the apartment. It’s way larger than the caravan and shack Rhys, Fiona, and Sasha lived in back on Pandora. Rhys doesn’t know if it’s large compared to the other rooms in the housing block of Helios, but it doesn’t matter. The living room gives way to the kitchen and dining area, a guest bathroom is attached to the left near the couch + television setup, and a hallway extends from the side of the dining area back to what Rhys suspects to be two separate rooms.

Rhys takes a moment to breathe and shake out his limbs one by one before rolling his head back to relieve some of the stress that had recently built there. Then, he decided to go check out the master bedroom of the apartment.

In the room Rhys’ single bag was standing up against the edge of the king-sized bed. The room itself was larger than Rhys’ had ever been as well, and even had a work bench up against the left wall and its own bathroom. The luxury of it made Rhys’ face melt into a smile as he strode forward and let gravity drop him face first onto the bed with a grunt.

After several seconds of staying like that, Rhys abruptly raises his head. Clamoring into a sitting position to yank off his boots, Rhys opened up his ECHOeye hud, pulling up the manual scripts for his firewall as he began to shed his vest. Handsome Jack had hacked past Rhys’ ‘advanced’ ECHO firewall, sure, but before now Rhys had been an occupant of Pandora. The most that the general pandoran population could do was work a radio - and the best were never as good as Rhys, as he had found out while assisting Vallory. Having a legitimate firewall was never the most imperative topic on Rhys’ mind. But this is Hyperion, and Rhys knows that Handsome Jack had definitely shown an interest that straggled from the norm of ogling curiosity. The thought of which makes Rhys feel tingly and hot as he remembered the sensation of the man’s hands on him, even if the the touches were hardly intimate. Rhys wants to play into it, whether it’s a dangerous decision or not.

Stripping down to just boxers and a pair of lavender and green striped socks, Rhys gets settled and begins to destroy his entire firewall.

By the time Rhys is finished it’s nearly three in the morning. But Rhys had made sure to triple check everything after rebuilding his firewall with enough mazes and reinforcements to rival - well, Hyperion.

To rival Handsome Jack, Rhys hopes.

Rhys fidgets for the next fifteen minutes, continually checking the notifications on his ECHOeye before reasoning that Jack probably won’t notice for a day, maybe two. And the blue moons hanging from Rhys’ eyes are growing heavier by the second, not to mention that Rhys is going to meet up with Vaughn and Yvette in only several more hours.

Content for now, Rhys flicks off the lights and buries himself beneath the blanket of the bed - which feels like the physical manifestation of a dream.

Only a few minutes after Rhys settles into this does a blinking light flash in the corner of his vision. Rhys drags it up:

  
_[1 message from Handsome Jack]_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this as more of a filler, really, since my update gap is running a bit wide. It's short - but this is 3 pages of work out of the 10 that have just - been - building - up. BUT the next part includes some frottage ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) among other things... and that is nearly done as well as revised...

_[ Handsome Jack, 0317: That was a risky move, cupcake. It would actually take me a few minutes to get back through. Cute.]_

 

⇝⇜

 

Rhys had never slept more soundly in his life than that first night on Helios.

For the following three days Rhys spends any time outside of his suite with Vaughn and Yvette.

As promised, they completely usurped Rhys’ wardrobe and took him to the Hyperion outfitter. Which, okay, Rhys will confess that the new clothes are an improvement in both quality and style. But he liked to think that his old rags had had a bit of pandoran charm. That was Rhys’ first mistake, he learned in attempting to build a defense against Yvette. And after Rhys was redressed and up to Yvette’s standards, they got lunch.

Of course, lunch was on Rhys all three days. They’re in the middle of Sunday lunch in the hub when Rhys’ comm, which he makes sure to to keep on him at all times, beeps with a new notification.

_[First meeting with program supervisor Hugo Vasquez scheduled for tomorrow morning, 0800.]_

“Program head? Weren’t we supposed to meet him Thursday night?” Rhys raises his head to Yvette and Vaughn after reciting the notification aloud.

Yvette rolls her eyes so hard Rhys thinks he should make a quip about them falling out of her face. Where would that get her in the romance game? But he doesn’t, because he _is_ smart. She takes another bite of her chicken parm with a grumbled “Mhmm.”

“Vasquez probably said he was ‘preoccupied with promotion work’ because he got distracted by his right hand,” Vaughn remarks with an annoyed look. “Probably while staring at his company car or something. Ugh, I swear, I hate him.”

Yvette makes an agreeing sound. “Yup, and the prick only got his new job because he airlocked Henderson. God, he’s such a moron too.”

Vaughn nods miserably, one hand pushing his glasses up the bring of his nose. “At least he isn’t your superior.” Vaughn sticks another large bite of salad in his mouth as Yvette snorts at the shorter man’s misfortune.

“So I don’t really need to worry about Vasquez, then?” Rhys asks as he takes a drink of his third latte.

Vaughn shrugs, pondering his question for a moment before offering: “I dunno man, he’s an idiot but -”

“But an idiot with power. Power that he enjoys exercising.” Yvette finishes for Vaughn. But as Yvette’s eyes settle on Rhys again they suddenly narrow while glaring at Rhys - and his outfit. “Rhys. Stand up.” Yvette tells him. Will Rhys ever win this fight?

It’s been four days since he’s met Yvette and Vaughn, but oddly enough he’s taken to them as quickly as he took to Fiona and Sasha. Although the two of them couldn’t be any more different. Well, maybe in Vaughn’s case. Rhys thinks that Yvette and and Fiona would hit it off. That is - if Rhys thought Fiona and Sasha might accept Hyperion employees as friends, even if Rhys has. But still, it feels like Rhys has been friends with Vaughn and Yvette for years already. They’re not just social the anchors Rhys had hoped to acquire, they’ve filled Rhys with this pleasant sensation that they could really be friends, even after the sponsorship. Maybe Rhys _will_ introduce them to Fiona and Sasha someday, and give his Pandoran family the benefit of the doubt about their ability to welcome others.

For now Rhys sighs and slides out of his chair, standing up in front of Yvette.

“So help me, Rhys -” Yvette breathes. “If you don’t untuck your tie right now -”

 

⇝⇜

 

How does anyone walk around with their tie just flapping about? Rhys is about ready to just rip the strip of fabric off his neck. And he still vehemently objects to Yvette’s statement about Rhys’ tie having ‘looked stupid’ tucked in.

But after about five minutes of arguing Rhys allowed his stubbornness to cave and did as she said.

Even the next morning while clothing himself, without Yvette’s commentary, Rhys glanced around his room as he thought about tucking the end of the tie into his pants. But he couldn’t shake the absurd idea that Yvette would find out, and let it be.

Now Rhys and the other three sponsees were standing in a new office, the location of which had been messaged to them earlier in the morning. It seemed like a fairly normal space, more luxurious than any of the other offices Rhys has glimpsed but still lacking something. It definitely doesn’t even touch the scale that Handsome Jack’s is on, that’s for sure.

“Hello there, kiddos.” A laughably weird voice chimes behind the four in the office doorway.

Without an introduction Rhys can just tell that it must be the Hugo Vasquez, head of their program, and apparently an unbelievable moron. Rhys wants to cringe at the way he used ‘kiddo.’

Rhys and the others all look behind them as the man approaches. “I am Hugo Vasquez.” He tells them, superiority dripping from the words like he’s got too much saliva in his mouth. He strides up between Rhys and Garrett, placing a hand on either of their shoulders as he passes between them. Vasquez’s eyes glance at Rhys’ face, an eyebrow raised and Rhys isn’t sure how to define his expression except that it’s got an undeniable layer of doltishness to it, ridiculous like his hair.

“I have to say, when I was first told _personally_ by an automatic messaging system, that one of Handsome Jack’s highest subordinates put my contact into, that I would be the lead supervisor of this year's sponsorship, well,” Vasquez talks like he’s giving god-sent advice to ten year olds and Rhys can even feel Garrett’s energy coiling with agitation. “I’m not going to lie, I thought it was below my pay grade.” He laughs softly, leaning against his desk to look at them. Fundamentally, it’s the same position Handsome Jack had been in when he hacked into Rhys ECHOeye, made eye contact with him while other’s backs were turned away with intent Rhys doesn’t name yet. But it’s still absolutely nothing akin to Handsome Jack in any detail. Vasquez’s asinine sense of self resonates with irritation, a facade that anyone with half a brain and the, even miniature, ability to think for themselves can see the moron hiding behind it. “But after thinking long and hard about the subject, I decided - ‘Hey, you will be assisting in molding the next great worker bees of Hyperion, Hugo Vasquez. It is your duty to provide for them, supervise them, _guide them_.’ “

“You, girl on the end there, what is -” Hugo begins, looking at Ellighen beside Rhys.

“We introduced ourselves yesterday, when we met formally with Handsome Jack.” Ellighen says abruptly and without discretion. Rhys feels smug, even though it didn’t come from him, as he watches Vasquez’s reaction. Several expressions flash across Vasquez’s face in a second. Confusion, horrified comprehension, and skin-crawling aggravation. Rhys can tell that Vasquez has never had the necessary importance to meet with Handsome Jack, and that hearing a bunch of teenagers got a first-hand conversation with him must feel like having a chuck of flesh being ripped out of his chest. Rhys’ lips curl up in a faint smirk.

“Right, right, I know that.” Vasquez says, recovering quickly. “And don’t think that I don’t.” The man’s voice grows in volume and an itching firmness that seems almost menacing.

‘ _But an idiot with power.’_ Rhys recalls Yvette’s words from yesterday. And Rhys can see exactly what she meant in regards to Hugo Vasquez.

But Vasquez is the program supervisor, Rhys reminds himself as he makes eye contact with Hugo. Vasquez’s eyes narrow at Rhys, and Rhys realizes that he’s still smirking in a ridiculing way. Letting his expression fall flat Rhys resolves that he may as well add: “I’m assuming you read our profiles then? If this place is efficient, since you were recently promoted, under your management then there’s no reason the files wouldn’t have been transferred to you before our arrival - and you would know our names and be able to address us properly.” Rhys says briskly, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his pants.

The reaction is immediate. The other sponsees look at Rhys with both amusement and gratitude, not minding that they were in Vasquez’s direct line of sight. Garrett kept his eyes focused straight ahead on Vasquez, steely and unwilling to acknowledge Rhys. But Rhys can still see the blond’s eye twitch. Hugo’s face becomes pinched and Rhys can see anger and building resentment in the older male’s eyes.

Oh well.

“Yes, yes I have, Rhys.” Vasquez finally says after a lapse of silence miles wide, despite only lasting a few seconds. “And it’s really impressive to see someone from Pandora above the rank of Senior Vice Janitor.” Vasquez retaliates, and Rhys raises an eyebrow at him, listening. “It’s endearing. Like watching a one armed dog learn to juggle.”

Rhys feels his skin begin vibrating as fury blooms in his stomach. But Rhys takes a quelling breath and in a measured tone, replies with, “A one-armed juggling dog that’s met Handsome Jack.” _I’m more important than you and I’ve been here five days._

  
The message reached Vasquez loud and clear, it seems, as he jerks his head away from Rhys specifically to the four of them as a whole. “Sir, can we get the information on our first trial?” Garrett asks promptly in the wake of Rhys and Vasquez’s verbal duel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also open to prompts! Just send them to my tumblr @galaxynoxious - smut, fluff, I'd love little projects to do inbetween updates for this, sooooo, yeah.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part of chapter 3 that I cut off because it was ten pages. Which is funny, because finished up this part made it ten pages. But whatever! Have some smut!

Handsome Jack wants the four of them to each recreate and improve the gun model for their newest line open to the public. Which is a completely cliche opening challenge. But, nonetheless, Rhys is sitting in his chair pushed several feet from his bedroom workbench staring at the gun model lying across the tabletop. The same position that he’s been in for the past hour.

Rhys wants to do something that would be worth seriously adding to the line itself. And every conception that begins to form in the depth of Rhys tumultuous thoughts gets scrapped in aggravation. Too simple, too complex, too easy, too expected. Every phrase catches inside Rhys’ rib cage as he pictures them being spat in his face. Pictures Handsome Jack spitting them in his face.

With perfect timing, a little blue light blinks in the corner of Rhys’ vision. Before he’s even opened the message, Rhys predicts who it’s from. It would be too pompous for Rhys to say he’s been expecting it.

_[Handsome Jack, 1004: Meet me in my office in 21 minutes.]_

But Rhys has been expecting it. However, Rhys immediately hits a blank wall on what to expect now that the message has come.

_[Rhys, 1005: Leaving now.]_

That doesn’t stop Rhys from ungrudgingly pushing his chair away from him as he stands up. They’ve got a week to revamp the weapon, and Rhys is confident in his ability to make do - even if he takes a little time away from the project. But hey, it’s Handsome Jack.

On the way out of his bedroom Rhys suddenly stops to look down at himself. He’s wearing the Hyperion yellow pajama bottoms he picked up with Vaughn and Yvette and a regular tank top the shows a great deal of the tattoos across his left shoulder and upper arm. Rhys contemplates whether he should change, and smiles when he simply heads to the front door of his apartment.

Three quarters of the way to Jack’s office Rhys is heartily regretting the choice to wear his sleeping clothes. First of all, there’s no way to know if Handsome Jack will see it as an insult or not. Like Rhys doesn’t think he’s important enough, or, god forbid, respect him enough, to get dressed for the late request. But then again, it _is_ a late request. If Handsome Jack had been seeking formality, Rhys would have been called in at an appropriate time, probably along with the other sponsees.

Yeah, Rhys will use that to keep ahold of his nerves.

The few lingering glances thrown Rhys’ way by the scarce employees still out and about Helios way don’t bother him in the least. Some of them are in pajamas as well, even. Rhys doesn’t see the point in caring about what they think of him. After all, Rhys is eighteen, he’s from Pandora and still has skill to surpass any of theirs, and he’s met Handsome Jack and lived. None of them can say the same. Rhys won’t feel threatened by any of them unless they’ve got something to lose or something to gain because of himself.

Once the elevator dings and the doors slide open and Rhys is again facing the disconcerting length of hallway to Handsome Jack’s office, he makes sure his breath is steady and runs a hand through his hair before starting forward. This time Rhys walks with a more confident gait. Well, as confident as he can force it to be in the circumstances.

The lights are still dimmed like before. Everything can still be easily seen, the room simply appears more tranquil - as opposed to the nature of the man who occupies it.

“I’m glad that you’re efficient, kiddo.” Handsome Jack’s voice rings out from where he’s sitting behind his desk on the elevated platform, his feet kicked up to rest on the desk and a small stack of papers.

“I learned it in school.” Rhys says, trying not to laugh at his own joke as he heads towards the stairs at a normal pace. There’s a split second of hesitation in Rhys’ mind if he should wait for Handsome Jack to ask him to sit down, but Rhys goes ahead anyways.

Handsome Jack lets out a brief laugh. “That’s funny,” More laughter. “Because Pandora doesn’t have a school system. Because it’s shit.” More laughter, Rhys gets he should be offended or something, but it isn’t as if Handsome Jack is wrong. Rhys is taking a seat on the chair across the desk as Handsome Jack’s laughter dulls off. “Anyways,” He says, his hands moving to hook behind his head as he spoke. “You, Rhysie, already have a complaint against you.”

Rhys stiffens for a couple seconds at Handsome Jack’s words, caught off guard. And then he releases a huffy laugh. “Seriously?”

Except Rhys stops as he sees the unamused look on Handsome Jack’s face. A hot flash of possibilities churns through Rhys’ body and settles sickly in his stomach. “Oh.” Rhys corrects himself, rethinking once again his clothing decision.

Then Handsome Jack barks with laughter again and Rhys stares at him, feeling concussed. “Man, people’s reactions when they think I’m upset never cease to amuse me. It’s just - priceless.” Jacks sputters with a chuckle. Rhys’ eyebrows are furrowed, still processing the change in the situation. “No, really, I couldn’t give a single shit about Gary - what’s his face, the blond kid who could stand to wear less cologne.” Rhys feels his entire being light up at Handsome Jack calling Garrett, ‘Gary.’

“What did he have to say?” Rhys asks inquisitively, replaying his and the other sponsees various interactions.

Handsome Jack doesn’t answer right away. Instead he drops his legs and stands. He’s wearing dark pants with the signature Hyperion yellow sweater that matches Rhys’ pajama bottoms and a maroon vest. A few layers and color changes off from the outfit he’d worn when Rhys had last seen him, and Rhys wonders if most of his closet is variations of the same thing. Rhys adjusts slightly in his chair as Handsome Jack takes slow, leisurely steps around the side of his desk. It’s unnerving to see how casually Handsome Jack, one of the most dangerous and powerful people in the galaxy, carries himself.

“He thinks that it should be a ’ ‘violation of policies’ that a contestant has cybernetic advancements that could be used for, get this, _felonious purposes_ _._ ’ “ Handsome Jack snickers, now standing directly to Rhys’ left. “And he even tried to throw in something about ‘Pandoran custom’ and shit like that. Like, god , xenophobic much?” Jack says, looking down at Rhys as Rhys looks up at him. “I don’t know. I don’t care.” His eyes catch on Rhys’ pajama pants now and he gives a mirthful laugh. “Usually only interns get that kinda stuff.” Jack muses, but Rhys can see an odd glint in Jack’s eyes before they meet his once again. One hand raises to Rhys’ shoulder. Rhys stills momentarily, not even taking a breath, as Jack traces one knuckle along Rhys’ tattoo and then compels himself to stay relaxed. This is great. _Amazing ._

“Is that why I’m here?” Rhys questions with one eyebrow raised. Jack’s eyes have fallen to where his hand moves against Rhys’ as well, skirting along Rhys’ neck and collarbone.

“C’mon, Rhysie, we both know I didn’t call you here for that.” Jack remarks to Rhys. “I brought you in so I could get a closer look.” His hand strays up to Rhys chin, like before except this time without the grasp, just fingertips feather-light along the skin. “I’m surprised someone with a pretty face from down there would ever make it this far. It’s kind of refreshing. Mostly it’s interesting.”

The way Handsome Jack calls Rhys _‘pretty’_ echoes through Rhys’ head. Rhys has always been confident, but it’s always been more reliant on his abilities rather than looks. Sure, he knows he isn’t bad looking to say the least, but he’s always figured there could be someone more attractive than him. But at least he would be able to surpass them by other means.

" _Interesting_ _._ ” Jack repeats with an almost non-existent chuckle. “Stand up.” He then says and Rhys pauses. “Was I not clear?” Jack nips at Rhys.

Rhys pushes himself up out of the chair and turns to face the other. Jack’s eyes survey him for a minute. “How do you even walk on those stilts?” He grumbles and Rhys is promptly being crowded into Jack’s desk, the edge of it pressing into the back of him. Both of Jack’s hands take Rhys’ face, tilting it as he inspects the work once again. One of Rhys’ hands moves to grip Jack’s left wrist absentmindedly, but Jack doesn’t notice so Rhys doesn’t let it drop. “Up.” Jack commands idly moving with, more focused on looking at the technical work on the younger’s face. Rhys sits on the desk, Jack moving with him, and after a fraction of a second of indecisiveness parts his legs so Jack can fit between them to get a closer look, Rhys’ body tilted forward. There’s nothing overtly sexual about the position, but it’s still parlously inappropriate.

“Those Atlas fucks did an expert job of jamming this into your face, and it’s still damn good despite being their model from nearly a decade ago. Damn, they did have some spectacular assets.” Jack talks, and Rhys feels a breath ghost over his face as Jack is inspecting him glaringly. Fingers frame his left eye before Jack jerks Rhys’ head to the side with a less conscientious regard for Rhys than he had had in front of the others, but Rhys thinks it might be genuinely due to Jack’s concentrated scrutiny . “I took all of the ones worth having, though.” Jack’s finger dances along the skin around Rhys’ neuroport on his temple before prodding the metal. Rhys inhales sharply at the sensation and Jack continues, “Fucking _Vallory_. Shit, kiddo,” He snickers. “You really are smart, I suppose, no matter what.” Rhys makes a small, indulgent noise at Jack’s praise.

Jack finally pulls back a little, meeting Rhys’ eyes. His hands are still holding Rhys’ face, but without the controlling grip of before. “It’s, uh,” The break in his voice is small and Jack is notice, but Rhys uses it to steel himself some more, “a pretty good alternative to not having brute force or intimidation to forge a path.” Rhys breathes, eye contact unbreaking. “A pretty face is only good for a few aspects of business down there.” He was nervous about playing the card but let a smirk set on his lips as he sees Jack exhale a darker chuckle. Rhys’ eyes trail over Jack’s face, to the attractive early grey streak in his hair, feels the mildly calloused hands holding his face. God, Rhys makes the mistake of spinning a montage of every fantasy about Jack that’s ever crossed his mind. Rhys hears how his next breath is heavier, just on this side of a groan.

“Jesus, cupcake, you’re something else.” Jack abruptly says, eyeing Rhys before leaning in, tilting Rhys’ head to nuzzle into his neck and - and inhale. It’s unexpected but still good, even better as Jack grazes his teeth across the skin and then continues speaking. “I wanted to fuck you three days ago when you damn near impressed me. Wondered what you’d look like all hot and bothered.” Jack mouths against him, one of the older man’s hands reach around Rhys to splay over his lower back.

“You know it’s practically _shameful_ for a born and raised pandoran to be where you are? Come on, princess.” The parting phrase is little more than a whisper as Jack urges Rhys into the broader body in front of him with the hand on his back until Rhys is only half-sitting and mostly-leaning on the desk. Rhys lets out a short, gravelly noise, his metal hand gripping the desk’s edge. Jack adjusts their position, his thigh slotting between Rhys’ legs as his free hand slides along Rhys’ side beneath the tank top he’s wearing. Rhys feels his whole body spasm under both touches.

“D-don’t you - Isn’t it just as bad for the CEO of Hyperion to be -” Rhys barely manages half the sentence as Jack moves his thigh up against Rhys crotch, making the younger gasp and tremor.

Rhys is not inexperienced in this aspect. No, there’s been several peculiar instances, and then some,  between him, Sasha, and August that they had swept under the rug. While they’d never gone into sex penetrative of the non-oral vicinity, they’d thoroughly engaged in just about every other side. But suddenly here, with Handsome Fucking Jack, Rhys can only hope he can keep up.

“I can do whatever I want, cupcake. No one will question my authority.” Jack replies with a surprising firmness. But Jack begins to move his thigh again against Rhys, who sputters and groans at the action. The friction has Rhys going out of his mind, his thoughts all turning to fuzz and the sensation of Jack’s clothed thigh through the thin, silky fabric of Rhys pajamas, not nearly enough to dull the sensitivity to a bearable amount as Rhys lets out a barely subdued whine. “I said, _come on, Rhysie_ _._ ” Jack says again, moving his leg more harshly into Rhys and eliciting a louder whimper from him. Already, Rhys is half hard and feels fire trickling into his bloodstream.

Nodding, Rhys draws his lower lip between his teeth and closes his eyes as he rides down against Jack’s thigh. “Ah,” Jack begins, one hand returning to Rhys’ face and holding him. His leg stills for a few moments, and Rhys’ hips stutter and start to press down on their own to rub for more of the almost-painful, scathing friction between their points of contact. “Look at me, I want to hear you.” Jack demands and Rhys nods a second time, more desperate. Jack resumes, his leg grinding into Rhys as he pushes his body down as well, a moan escaping his lips immediately. “There we go, good boy. That’s what I want.” Jack whispers. Rhys feels a prickling layer of embarrassment at the words but also a grotesque amount of arousal.  He keeps his eyes focused on Jack. _Shameful_ _,_ Rhys repeats mentally. That doesn’t even begin to cover the ground here, probably. Rhys’ lips part in a particularly heated whimper as Jack roughly brings his leg up against Rhys.

And Rhys just ruts against the movement with more desperation, starved for that blissful climax building inside of him.

Jack’s hand released Rhys’ face in favor of sliding down the younger’s body once more, touching through the fabric of Rhys’ shirt and then beneath it, the pads of his fingers pressing and feeling along the skin indulgently. Rhys lets his head fall forward against Jack’s shoulder and brings his flesh hand up to curl into the fabric covering Jack’s right arm. Everything is so intense for Rhys and he can’t figure out if it’s because it’s been a while or because of Handsome Jack.

So Rhys settles on not caring and grinds onto Jack relentlessly, his dick agonizingly hard and pulsing with the building stress of impending orgasm. Jack has a hand carding through Rhys’ hair almost-gently as he ceaselessly slides his thigh between Rhys’ legs. Rhys squeezes his eyes shut, opening his mouth to scrape his teeth along Jack’s shoulder through the cloth. Half to ground himself and half because Rhys wants to see Jack’s reaction.

“God damn, pumpkin -” Jacks huffs and Rhys brims with satisfaction as Jack quickens the pace with which he moves against Rhys, making him whine and shake as he gasps against Jack’s torso.

“Uhnn, fuck, J-Jack - I can’t - I can’t -” Rhys feels himself falling apart in every way. The hot sensation sinking through Rhys’ pelvis is all encompassing and fuck fuck fuck, he can’t think, his body just keeps rutting and -

And it’s Jack’s hand that does the trick for Rhys. Moving down to palm against the front of Rhys’ pajama bottoms, now soaked with precum as he moves. The touch is firm and Jack strokes along Rhys’ length over the cloth once, twice -

The orgasm spirals through Rhys with all the grace of a tsunami. His whole body tenses and then devolves into a series of small earthquakes as he groans through it. Warm wetness is spreading stickily through Rhys’ underwear and pajama bottoms, his chest heaving.

Then Handsome Jack is stepping back from Rhys and the younger male makes a surprised grab for the escaping source of stable warmth. “That’s adorable.” The source says with a chuckle. A hand is fisting the front of Rhys’ tank top to pull him forward off the desk’s support, which makes Rhys all too aware of how weak his legs are at the moment. But just as quickly the hand is shoving on Rhys’ shoulder, ushering him forcefully to the ground. Rhys complies, falling to his knees in front of Jack.

“You’re surprisingly good at taking orders for a pandoran, kiddo.” Jack remarks and Rhys, starting to feel recovered from his orgasm high but not in the right mind to reign in his instincts, shoots Jack a very dirty look. To which he replies with another snicker. “There it is. That’s why I think this’ll be fun.” Jack states, and after a moment snaps at Rhys. “Hurry up, what, you think I’m going to do this all myself?”

Rhys abruptly turns to look at the bulging erection restrained beneath Jack’s layers and kicks into action instantly, again recalling every crude fantasy he’s had that’s involved exactly this sort of scenario. Deft, long-fingered hands reach to work at Jack’s belt buckle. “Now you’re working with me.” Jack grins, but then it falls as he stares down at Rhys as the younger pulls the belt from the loops to let it fall to the floor, promptly tugging the waistline down Jack’s hips and - of course Jack isn’t wearing boxers. Jack’s cock is there, directly in front of Rhys’ face and unapologetically erect. Precum beads at the top and Rhys’ face burns with the desire to lean forward -

“I’ve never wanted to fuck one of your sort.” Jack states then, and Rhys can’t restraint the rigid still that turns him to stone for a moment. “I _meant_ one of the _whatevers_ we sponsor. Too young, too obnoxious, but -” Jack’s lips curl into a smile, his hand pets through Rhys’ hair and turns softly into a fist. “I think I like you quite a bit, princess.”

Rhys chooses to reply not with words but by taking the base of Jack’s cock in his flesh hand and slants forward to lick a wet stripe along the length of Jack’s member. The husky inhale the reaches Rhys’ ears informs him that it was the right way to go.

Except then Jack’s fist tightens and tugs Rhys’ head back with a jerking movement. Rhys huffs, feeling deprived of a prize and aggravated at the action itself as his eyes divert to meet Jack’s. “You know no teeth, right? Unless you know how to use them.” Jack’s voice has dropped, tipping Rhys to the warning.

Rhys scrunches up his nose slightly, letting his irritation give way to a smirk. “I _promise,_ Mr. Jack.” Rhys says with a snide lacquer.

Jack’s face looks less hard, traded in for an entertained expression. "Hey, that's kinda totally workin' for me, pumpkin." The grip in Rhys’ hair slackens, which Rhys takes as his cue that he’s allowed to continue. And Rhys is kind of annoyed at himself because of the beat of eagerness that pounds through his chest.

But it’s forgotten as Rhys returns to Jack’s member. Rhys nuzzles the area just above where his hand holds it, the heady musk of the organ permeating Rhys’ senses before lazily licking another line to the head - post-orgasmic weight still buzzes in Rhys’ veins. For now it seems Jack isn’t rushing him.

Rhys laves along the dark tip of Jack’s before letting the head slip between his lips, savoring the taste of Jack’s flesh like this. He spends a few moments at this, just sucking on the end of Jack’s cock - letting his tongue lick across the slit teasingly.

Jack hisses and his hand presses urgently at the back of Rhys’ skull.

Receiving the command, Rhys inhales through his nose and bobs his head, taking more of the length. It’s girth is making Rhys’ jaw begin to ache only halfway down, but Rhys hasn’t been _practicing_ lately. Still - the weight, and heat, of Jack’s cock in his mouth is satisfying in itself, and Rhys can’t help but let out a groan.

Without a hint, Jack cants his hips forward into Rhys’ mouth. The movement isn’t nearly as harsh as he could have been, but Rhys makes a sound of surprise. Thankful that he lacks a gag reflex once again, Rhys inhales and exhales rapidly as he tilts his head slightly to glower at Jack above him.

“Sorry, Rhysie, but my patience was running low. But - no gag reflex, huh? I’ll commit that to memory.” Jack says in a not-so-authentically apologetic tone.

Rhys reluctantly lets it slide, recuperating. He bobs his head again and allows himself to slide down the rest of Jack’s shaft until Rhys’ face is tickled by the well-trimmed pubic hairs around the base of Jack’s cock.

Then, Rhys makes eye contact with Jack a second time. This seems to tilt Jack over some sort of odd ledge as the older man lets out a heavy groan and grinds his hips ever so slightly against Rhys’ hips.

Taking advantage of Jack’s state, Rhys lets his head move smoothly back until just the head is again sucked between Rhys’ lips - and then Rhys repeats, taking Jack all the way into his throat. And then again, only sliding back halfway before dipping back again. Each time Rhys presses his tongue against Jack’s cock to slide it along the vein on the underside of the other’s cock. In a few movements of Rhys’ head over a minute’s time, Jack is a mess of weighty, groaning breaths. The hand holding the back of Rhys is frantic, but hardly controlling as Rhys is already moving in swift, efficient actions. And every little desperate noise Rhys solicits from Jack pools in the pit of Rhys’ stomach hotly.

God, the masturbation material Rhys will have for the rest of his life.

“Good job, cupcake, but -” Jack’s voices is breathy and firm. Both of the man’s hands take place at either side of Rhys’ head to hold him still and before Rhys can protest - he can do it, Jack is fucking into his mouth. And Rhys can’t help but moan as Jack’s cock thrusts between his lips at a pace little little more than frenzied. Rhys makes muffled noises in light of the onslaught, trying to concentrate on relaxing his throat. “Oh fuck, yeah, _good boy ,_ Rhysie -” Jack gasps over him. The praise makes Rhys’ pulse hitch higher still and he groans again, making Jack release an unhinged moan. “Fuck.” Jack mumbles between breaths, his hips moving erratically now.

And then Jack is coming. The thick warmth of the liquid pumping into Rhys’ throat makes the younger release a soft whine. Jack keeps his cock lodged in Rhys’ throat as he rides out his orgasm into the male on his knees, watching as Rhys swallows as much as possible.

“Oh yes, I like you a lot.” Jack huffs as he finishes, letting his cock slide out of Rhys’ mouth.

Rhys immediately gasps, lungs raking in full breaths. Saliva and a small amount of come Rhys’ didn’t manage to swallow is smeared across his lips and Rhys feels intensely triumphant.

 

↝↜

 

Returning to his apartment, Rhys is tired in the best way and swollen with pride - also, wearing a new pair of grey pajama bottoms. When they had finished Rhys and Jack cleaned up promptly and they had exchanged few words.

“Thanks Jack,” Rhys had said with a grin. “For more than just the change of clothes.” He added as he turned to face jack. The other man had tucked himself back into his pants and pulled them up but not bothered to fix his appearance in any way, or, his clothes. For the most part, Jack still looked superbly controlled, even his hair was barely a strand out of place. Rhys decided to go with the idea he looked something of the same without a mirror to check himself in. Sure, Rhys had never thought himself supremely beautiful - but appearances were always a key detail. But Rhys had also highly doubted Jack even cared as the older sat back lazily in the chair behind his desk.

With a chuckle, Jack replied, “Anytime, kiddo.”

Rhys made to leave, but a couple steps down the staircase towards the mildly less uncomfortable hallways Rhys stopped and spun to look back at Jack. “Jack, do you think I could exploit the labs - a bit after the regulated hours?” Rhys asked the question casually, like he could be asking for an extra piece of candy.

Jack didn’t even meet Rhys’ eyes as he responded with, “Sure, Rhys.” Before digging into a cabinet behind his desk.

As Rhys closes the front door behind himself, he wanders over to the vertically aligned couch and drapes himself onto it over the armrest. Everything came together so well that Rhys almost can’t believe it.

He just had sex with _Handsome Fucking Jack._

Rhys reaches out and gropes around the coffee table for his comm absentmindedly. Save for that first night Rhys was on Helios, he’s been making two calls daily to Fiona and Sasha - as if they would let Rhys not keep contact regularly. They would probably fly up here themselves and suckerpunch Rhys.

Despite already having made both calls, Rhys couldn’t imagine not making a third. Of course, Rhys wouldn’t give them the legitimate details about what happened - maybe he’d making some issue up, just to hear them bicker about advice that never actually seems to hold a solution. That sounds nice.

After Rhys’ half-assed groping produces no comm, Rhys groans and gets to his feet so he can walk to the bedroom where he most likely left it on the workbench.

Finding it left carelessly beneath his unmade bedsheets after fifteen minutes later Rhys promptly pulls up their contact and dials. To Rhys’ delight, Sasha answers after only a few seconds and hurriedly wakes Fiona to indulge him.

Sometimes Rhys wonders how he got so lucky with his life.

They talk forever. Rhys talks more about the meeting with Vasquez, and some more about Yvette and Vaughn without saying their names. Rhys is trying to build up their characters, get the ball rolling, for if he can ever manage to make them meet. Fiona and Sasha are starting to soften on their eye rolling, dismissive attitude they have when Rhys mentions the two. Maybe because they’re starting to realize that Rhys genuinely likes them. And about his wardrobe change, which Fiona and Sasha both agree was necessary and Rhys petulantly scoffs. Then the topic travels from tangent to tangent into an endless series of conversations that leave Rhys laughing and happy. Eventually Rhys and them come to the conclusion that tomorrow Rhys will have to call them again anyways, so it’s best that he get some sort of sleep.

It’s easy for Rhys to fall asleep when he ends the call, stomach full of comforting emotions.

Although, those emotions are shattered beyond repair when he flips over at some point, and is pulled reluctantly from his sleep by some intangible nagging in his head.

Rhys’ eyes fluttered open groggily, but it doesn't even take the haze over Rhys' vision settling to recognize that he's staring the barrel of a gun in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can still totally send me prompts @galaxynoxious on tumblr if you like my writing
> 
> or yell at me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in sooooo long, ugh, I'm just having writers block with this fic and I have two other AUs I want to start but also don't cause I need to focus on this. And this update is like 95% smut, because honestly, that's what most of this fic is going to be and was meant to be. But I'll try to be more plot advancing next time regardless.
> 
> Also, y'all have been so damn sweet and I know I haven't replied to all the comments but I appreciate your guys' feedback so so so much, honestly. Thank you guys.

“Rhys?... Sir?” The voice chimed through the sluggish rift between Rhys and the real world, snapping Rhys back into his shoes in a matter of seconds.

“O-oh, uh, sorry. Make sure the parts are all organized, no point in wasting time later trying to dig them out of storage when we could be prepared. ” Rhys murmurs in reply, eyebrows furrowed. They nodded and swiftly turned to communicate the assertion. The woman that approached him was part of the lab detail Rhys and the other three sponsees were issued this morning when they showed up for their open lab hours. Each group of scientists were shuffled together for them and assigned a specific sponsee that would lead them in assisting the assembly of their technology for the duration of the competition, exercising their management skills as well.

Except Rhys was still thrown off from last night. It hadn’t even felt like Rhys had fallen asleep. 

The nightmare wasn’t new. It was the same fiendish dream that has plagued Rhys since before Fiona and Sasha found him in the desert. Always dredging up an old fact that Rhys has made peace with. It was obnoxious more than anything, and only surfaced when Rhys was especially stressed out. First it was Rhys’ father behind the trigger of the gun, they were always only three feet apart standing in the arid landscape of Pandora. Then it was Rhys’ mother sniffling and crying, sobbing that she didn’t want him to go as she point the gun at his face. The phantom taste of blood and dirt lingered on his tongue and haunted the sensory nerves of his nose.

But Rhys hadn’t thought before this point that he was stressed. So why did the hell did he have the nightmare? Up until now Rhys has had no qualms, quite on the contrary - Rhys has been _on top of the goddamn world_. Literally above it, in fact.

It’s been a distracting subject on Rhys’ mind for the better half of the day already, making him grit his teeth or fall through the walls of Helios and drift off through space. Although, on the upside, after waking up in a cold sweat, Rhys actually had a promising idea for the gun model. So Rhys had spent several hours working on the design, which had diverted his attention from the nightmare. Which it was, unfortunately, not anymore.

Thankfully Rhys’ team has been pleasantly accommodating. Quietly catching his attention when Rhys’ thoughts wander from the work.

This time as they meandered to fulfill Rhys’ various requests, which have been lackluster due to Rhys only being half-there, it was joined by the small blinking notification in the corner of Rhys’ sight.

_[ Schedule Adjustment: You have access to the TE Lab 7 in the East Sector, floor 32. Extended open hours are now added into your schedule. ]_

Confusion spread across Rhys’ features for a moment. That was the same floor Rhys is on now along with the other sponsees, each in their own respective rooms. Although Rhys himself had the room furthest down the floor in lab 5.

And then a smile presses onto Rhys’ lips unabashedly. Memories from the first introduction with Handsome Jack permeate Rhys’ mind. How Jack had said that he would have to let Rhys have time to upgrade his arm. Already Rhys’ plans to get ahead are flourishing. By different means, of course, than Rhys had initially pictured. But nonetheless, Rhys now has extra resources for personal means.

Is this prostitution? The thought occurs to Rhys. It should bother Rhys on, at the very least, an ethical level. But it doesn’t. None of the others have these benefits. Rhys is simply utilizing his opportunities, which happen to extend past the other sponsees in a certain way.

But it’s not like they haven’t had a lifetime of opportunity to surpass Rhys. If anything Rhys deserves this. A wave of old emotion bubbles up in the pit of Rhys stomach - god, Rhys wants to destroy his enemies. Is that in poor taste? Sure, the other sponsees may not particularly be _enemies_ \- but this is a competition, more than that, this is an entire life. And Rhys will best them. He will.

The notification gives Rhys a pleasant ego boost and helps concentrate his thoughts for the rest of the day. Really, Rhys still has to map out more of the details himself, inspect the parts himself, put everything together himself. Sasha always used to chirp that Rhys was a ‘weird uber-control freak with his hobbies’ and Rhys would detest use of the word _‘ hobby ’_ pertaining to his work. But it was true, Rhys always wound up trying to do it all himself and this time Sasha nor Fiona would be here to berate Rhys about it. Although, Rhys would have to dole out his work eventually. But on this first challenge? It will be too easy overtake all the tasks himself, it was too small.

When Rhys’ comm dinged and projected _[ Lab hours met, exit now. ]_ into the air Rhys set down the pieces he had been working with for the gun. Rhys wasn’t worried about leaving his work overnight. The scanner fixed at the door entrance wouldn’t let someone in who didn’t have the schedule hours listed on the floor.

The other scientists on Rhys’ team filed out of the room before Rhys, who was quickly double checking the parts and plans laid out across the table tops. After all, Vaughn and Yvette are planning to show Rhys some film series about fantasy lands or whatever. Rhys wasn’t sure on the details, but they were excited to show him and said that they would bring frozen yogurt - a treat Rhys quickly found himself addicted to over their weekend adventures.

Just as Rhys turned to head out as well, he was met with the sight of Vasquez standing in the lab doorway. Rhys had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

Huh, _now_ Rhys understands Yvette’s initial reaction to Rhys bringing up Vasquez’s name.

“Y’know,” Vasquez begins, Rhys’ gaze set duly on the unimpressive man. “it’s funny. You almost look like someone raised respectably.” Rhys purses his lips at Vasquez’s words, face drawing in mildly as he regards the older male.

Vasquez enters the room, eyes sweeping across the beginnings of Rhys’ work. “Interesting dreams here, kid.” Vasquez hums as he looked at one of Rhys’ more intricate draw-ups. As if the male probably understood a lick of anything sitting around him. Rhys is repulsed by the fact that someone like Vasquez could get to such a position here at Hyperion. Fiona and Sasha's’ jiving stories about ‘idot Hyperion bees’ echo in Rhys’ mind to his own dismay.

“They’re not dreams if they’re real, Hugo. And they are - literally - right in front of you.” Rhys says plainly. “Have you ever had an actual idea that got you further or was airlocking Henderson the only means you could think of to get ahead? Since you don’t have any promising assets -” Rhys had started in, drawing on what Vaughn and Yvette had disclosed to him, only to be abruptly cut off.

“It’s Vasquez. You will call me _Vasquez_ or sir.” Vasquez’s voice is seething with a livid heat as the man spins around to face Rhys. The skin beneath Vasquez’s copious amounts of hair is tomato-red and Rhys should take him seriously. But… he’s just so.... _so_ ridiculous. Rhys can’t withhold the faint sputtering snicker in the face of the other man, which definitely does not soothe the situation. Vasquez grits his teeth in front of Rhys. “And you had better watch your mouth you worthless Pandoran piece of - of - you Pandoran -!”

“Scum?” Rhys offers. “Inbred bandit trash?” Rhys suggests again, raising an eyebrow. “See what I mean? You’re just, you’re sitting on a _goldmine_ of trash-talk based off my home planet alone and you’re just - you’re _so incompetent_ it… kind of hurts.” Rhys finishes his indulgent retort and sighs with satisfaction as he stares Vasquez down, the other man practically trembling with rage.

Rhys shrugs and turns on his skag-booted heels to strut out of the lab. Although, Rhys does spare a glance back as he exits the doorway, the other sponsees at the end of the hall already.

 

↠↞

 

The elevator ride down from the lab floor with the other sponsees was as tense as ever, cushioned only by the fact that they were each separately ensconced in their plans. Although Garrett kept side eyeing Rhys as nastily as ever. Particularly Rhys’ face. He could tell exactly what Amayada was stewing over.

“Look, if you have a problem with my ECHOeye, get one yourself.” Rhys quipped at Garrett.

“It isn’t fair, there’s no telling what your kind is doing. Scanning this place, trying to see what’s most valuable so you can ship it down to your heathen degenerate bandit friends.” Garrett replied with a sneer and a raising eyebrow.

“It’s a competition, Garrett. Do you honestly think it matters to Hyperion what technology you have in your head so long as you prove yourself useful?” Rhys drawls, feeling entirely unamused then. “I get that this superiority complex is like - your _thing_ , and that you can’t go about it in a non-obnoxious way, but do what you can to win or go home. Nothing is going to coddle you now unless you _make it._ ”

No reply, everyone seemed to shift around though, a much more tense air filling the elevator cabin. Rhys paid it no attention.

Movie night with Vaughn and Yvette was perfect. They insisted the movies be viewed at Rhys’ place because he had an amazing television. Which is true. And Rhys found he thoroughly enjoyed the movie series, not to mention that Rhys gleefully ate two and a half tubs of frozen yogurt. Yvette wound up falling asleep on Rhys’ couch, her head resting on Vaughn’s lap and her legs laid across Rhys. Once the movies were over Vaughn nudged Yvette awake and the three exchanged hugs before they trudged out of Rhys’ suite to their own apartments in the lower sects of the housing wing.

When they had gone, though, Rhys realized quickly that he wasn’t ready to sleep both because he wasn’t tired and because the thought that Rhys might have the nightmare again isn’t appealing.

So Rhys shrugs on the Hyperion button-up pajama top he usually leaves unadorned in favor of his simple tank top. It’s from a different set of pajamas and a light grey as opposed to the repugnantly bright yellow bottoms that Rhys continues to wear despite their horridness. Then he leaves his apartment and heads to lab 7 to begin exploiting his extra access hours, figuring that he could at least blow off some steam by indulging in some self-upgrades on his arm. It feels like forever since Rhys has worked on the machinery, which is a shame with the resources open to him. Rhys had even contemplated taking apart some of the miscellaneous tech in his apartment to work on the piece. But that seemed a bit excessive, and now Handsome Jack has come through on his promise.

Tonight the halls are fairly empty, it seems as though no one wanted to work late at all. Rhys only passed a total of two other workers on the way to the lab. Neither gave Rhys a second glance, and Rhys wasn’t sure if the novelty of being the Pandoran sponsee wearing off was better or not. He enjoys being underestimated, it’s more fun to show off, but Rhys also enjoys being held to the esteem that he should be.

Once Rhys was in the lab, which was surprisingly already stocked with tools and materials for Rhys to use, he melted into a relaxed state. Being allowed to concentrate on the recreational fun of tweaking his arm was as comforting to Rhys as talking with Fiona and Sasha. This was something that no one could take from Rhys, this straightforward and easy task all for himself that Rhys could concentrate and forget other things.

That’s why the loud hiss of the lab door sliding open after god knows how long makes Rhys jump. The prongs in Rhys’ left hand clattered to the tabletop with a small curse from the male. Rhys had had his arm braced against the table in a stable position so that he could work on it, not wanting to go through the task of attaching and reattaching it after every adjustment to test the small altercation. Although, it occurs to Rhys he had forgotten to account for what he would do if he moved his arm to find not any small things to tweak but on large mistake to fix. Various wires and metal components were strewn about the desk, and Rhys had found some new, more sleek armor plates to replace the old ones that he had made from metal billboard scraps that Sasha spray painted.

“Hey there, Rhysie.” The ever-sharp voice pierced the air behind Rhys.

Rhys’ head jerked to the side to look behind him without the the rest of his body turning, which was awfully awkward. “O-oh, Handsome Jack?” Rhys stammered abruptly. “God - ugh -” He stammers, cursing his current state as he snaps his head back towards his work. Taking the prongs to reattach some of the cable work inside of his arm, Rhys hastily adjusts the hydraulics as well and nudges into place a couple other key components for his arm. So that he can actually move it again - slash test it since making said adjustments.

Behind Rhys, Handsome Jack lets out a chuckle. “Man, you’re such a nerd. It’s hilarious. Were you another one of those stupid scientists I’d totally be agitated right now.” Handsome Jack hums. Rhys’ brow furrows as he tried to decide whether the statement is positive or negative while he trades the prongs from a small screwdriver to attach the new outer plates in place of the other ones. Handsome Jack’s heavy footsteps fill the lab along with the sound of the door sliding shut. And then Jack’s strolling at a slow pace around the isle table Rhys is working on, his eyes scanning across the table without much interest but with understanding. _  
_

Unlike Vasquez, Handsome Jack is an intelligent man. He could do exactly what Rhys is doing, maybe even better. Probably better.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like I could predict -”

“Whatever _,_ cupcake, I just said it’s alright, didn’t I? Jeez.” Handsome Jack cuts Rhys off. “It’s already looking less like a bunch of average IQ bandits constructed it while givin’ each other head.” Jack grins, his gaze jumping from Rhys’ arm to his face.

Rhys raised his head to throw a leering glare at the older man, mouth opening to say something nasty. But Jack is looking at Rhys like he’s waiting for it - whether he’s awaiting an angry retaliation or something sophisticated escapes Rhys but he knows that either way he doesn’t want to play into Jack’s hand. But Rhys can also see that’s impossible.

So Rhys huffs and shrugs, fixing his eyes even more attentively on the plates as he replies. “Oh, well, you know - with all those primitive stick and stone tools ‘down there’ I could never quite… _blossom_.” Rhys says the whole thing with a flat sarcasm.

Handsome Jack just snickers, which makes Rhys purse his lips as he screws in a tiny bolt for the last plate. Rhys’ arm looks much more modern and glossy, decked in chrome. It made Rhys feel luxurious himself.

 _Damn_ that ridiculous nightmare.

“Most people would think twice about the tone they say ‘hi’ to me in,” Handsome Jack muses, already around the other side of the table and beside Rhys. Rhys raises his arm, wiggling the fingers and contracting it a couple times. He improved the neuro-receptors reaction time as well as put a layer of synthetic cartilage in the joints so that they move ten times as smoothly. In all honesty, those adjustments are probably imperceptible to anyone else. But Rhys knows, and he’s pleased. “but I don’t know,” Jack is still staring at Rhys, and Rhys is making sure to keep the man in his peripheral vision. “maybe face-fucking you on our second meeting erased a couple boundaries?” This Rhys did roll his eyes.

But that was quickly halted as a hand wrapped around Rhys throat, making the younger man gasp. “I mean, it totally still puts me in the choking mood. But not the kind that leads me to strangle someone to death.” Jack says, his voice dropping. The hand curled around Rhys’ neck slides up, just below Rhys’ jaw. Jack’s fingers fidget a little, pressing into the skin softly as if restraining themselves from wrenching down on Rhys in a murderous way, which they’re no doubt use to doing.

Rhys’ mouth hangs open a little, his breathing isn’t particularly heavy - but this is a new feeling. This meticulous and perilous sensation that… is more good than it is bad. Sure the homicidal and terrifying Handsome Jack is holding Rhys by the throat, but the look in Jack’s eye suggests a multitude of thoughts other than killing Rhys. The kind that make Rhys want to sink into the grip. But Rhys withholds himself from such a reaction this early on. His flesh hand is reflexively gripping Jack’s at his throat, and the robotic one is already clutching at Jack’s shoulder for a bit of stability as Jack now has Rhys a few inches away from the table.

Jack tilts Rhys’ head to the side, and although the angle has Rhys’ head tilted back they still make eye contact. And Rhys can feel the flush across his cheeks as Jack simply keeps _staring_ at him. And Rhys can steadily feel his body betraying Rhys’ mental decision to not let Jack _know_.

Ah, fuck.

“Oh, you’re so _entertaining_ , princess. I’m starting to realize what a bargain you _really_ are.” Jack says, and Rhys feels Jack’s nails digging into the skin below his jaw temptingly. Maybe Rhys _is_ walking the line between Jack’s carnal desires. Or maybe they’re not a line at all. Rhys wonders how different the impulse between _fuck_ and _kill_ are to Handsome Jack.

There must be a basic understanding there. Rhys is yanked in towards Jack by the hand holding his throat and Rhys feels his cock stir with delight at the sensation even before Jack’s lips latch onto the skin of Rhys’ neck below his grip. Teeth scrape along Rhys’ skin and the younger releases a low huff that shows more want than Rhys had hoped for. The metal hand moves up to Jack’s shoulder and along the fabric of the jacket the CEO’s wearing to hold the nape of his neck, trying not to claw because the hand is, after all, metal. And Rhys doubts Jack would appreciate that.

Suddenly Jack’s hand has left Rhys’ throat and is clasping Rhys’ waist instead. There must have been more pressure on Jack’s hold than Rhys had thought because upon being released Rhys gasps and inhales immediately. Jack shoves Rhys against the metal table, which Rhys catches himself and braces both hands against with a hitched breath. “These pajamas again?” Jack remarks, standing behind Rhys.

“What do you think people change into after work? Should - should I wear a tuxedo for your _surprises_?” Rhys snips back in a rush, giving a breathy half-laugh as he feels one of Jack’s hands slide under the fabric of Rhys’ top layers. Rhys himself doesn’t expect the hiss that slips between his teeth as Jack feels him up, the older man’s hand smoothing over Rhys’ skin.

Jack makes an “Mm,” sound as he gropes Rhys, pressing against his backside. “I wonder, pumpkin,” Jack muses in a rougher tone, “if you would whore yourself out to any boss?” Jack’s words make Rhys blush intensely.

“I-I-I, huhn -” Rhys made to reply, but it came to a stuttering halt as Jack’s finger pinched one of Rhys’ nipples between his fingers and then clawed down across the skin of his stomach. Rhys isn’t well-defined, although he is lithe. Being able to avoid the common arduous, exercising lifestyles plaguing the Pandoran population has rendered Rhys fairly soft. But Rhys did have a Pandoran life regardless, which has left him not quite as soft as someone raised, well, anywhere else.

At the same time, Jack chooses to grind against Rhys’ ass - making the bulge beneath the fabric of Jack’s pants very apparent. Rhys bites down hard on his lower lip with a giddy emotion pumping through his body. “Or is it just me? That shouldn’t be a wild idea. Even if you are from Pandora. I mean, you’re here, right?” Jack cackle that follows this abrupt and punctuated with another cant of his hips against the cleft of Rhys’ ass through his pajama bottoms. Jack’s hand has returned to Rhys’ shoulder beneath the clothing, holding the younger by his shoulder to pull Rhys back into Jack as he moves. “There’s _definitely_ got to be some sort of infatuation there, I can smell it on you.”

 _That word_ again, and from the man himself. It does nothing to lighten the blush on Rhys’ face, which makes Rhys glad to not be facing Jack. The hand on Rhys’ shoulder claws into the skin, sending a small shiver through the younger. 

Well, Rhys is in it now.

“Posters.” Rhys huffs, cocking his head to peer behind himself at Jack, although the man is temporarily staring intensely at Rhys’ back and rear as he again moves his hips into Rhys’ to chase sensations. But Jack’s head raises his head again at Rhys’ word with a lust-addled inquisitively. Rhys can’t even comprehend that Handsome Jack is staring at him like that.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” Jack questions firmly as Rhys feels Jack’s opposite hand unclasp from his waist, following by the tell-tale sound of pants being undone and shoved down. Fingers slip beneath the hem of his pajama bottom to pull them down as well expose his ass.

“ _Oh,_ _”_ Rhys groans as he feels the press of Jack’s bare cock against his ass and his heart skip a beat. “P-posters,” Rhys reiterated. He’d hoped to never say this allowed, and the idea of saying it to Jack’s face was definitely not a part of any fantasy. And yet here Rhys was, painfully hard as he poured out one of his deepest secrets to his idol, “I used to steal -” Jack’s hand returns to Rhys’ waist to angle his hips up slightly. The adjustment makes Rhys decide to drop to his forearms on the metal tabletop, letting his head drop between his shoulders. “to steal them off walls. Posters of you. I-I, fuck, hide them fr-from - from my… sisters - I would stare at them and think about you, in person, and at night I-I’d -” Rhys isn’t sure when to shut up, doesn’t even know if Jack is finding the confession repulsively weird or not.

“Holy fuck, that’s fuckin’ creepy, kitten.” Jack cuts him off and rocks his hips to rub his erection between Rhys’ cheeks, and Rhys can feel the trail of precum left by the head of Jack’s cock as it drags back and forth. “And hot. You pretty thing, wanting me to fuck you from first glance at my picture. I mean everyone does, heh,” The laugh comes out of Jack a groan as Rhys makes a low, strained whimper.

Then Jack’s hand that had been holding Rhys’ shoulder hooks beneath Rhys’ right arm and pulls Rhys up against the broader male. Two fingers pause at Rhys’ lips and Rhys obediently parts them to let the fingers in. They’re only mildly calloused as the pads press down against Rhys’ tongue. And like this Rhys can acutely feel Jack’s cock trapped between the two of their bodies, the heat and slide of the erection as Jack ruts against Rhys.

 _So close_ . It would take so little for Jack to be inside of Rhys. “ _Please ._ ” Rhys moans quietly around the two digits.

“I know you can use your mouth better than that, kitten.” Jack breathes. Rhys groans defeatedly and clamps his mouth down and sucks on the fingers, spit coating them as Rhys works at them. Rhys feels like he’s burning up inside. “Good boy. _Fuck_ , I can just picture it - how sweet you must’ve been in whatever hovel you existed inside down there. Masturbating and violating yourself with my name on your lips.” _Oh, shit_ _._ Rhys can’t move his right arm like this aside from where it’s holding Jack’s arm, elbow protruding. So instead Rhys’ left arm moves with intent to release the stress of the neglected erection beneath the front of his pajama bottoms, only the red angry head visible. But Jack’s free hand snatches the wrist and wrenches it back, twisting it around so that it’s pinned behind Rhys’ back in an entirely uncomfortable way that only makes Rhys groan with another wave of erotic pleasure.

“No can do, princess, me first.” Jack growls. Rhys wants it so badly _._ To touch himself. For Jack to fuck him. _Both_ . But Jack just continues persist, rocking his hips faster. “Shit - I bet you’re just all kinds of tight, yeah? Regardless of what you’ve probably done to yourself.” Rhys lolls his head back against Jack’s shoulder with a moan, bobbing his head slightly on Jack’s two fingers as he circles his tongue around them. “I mean - God knows who you’ve let fuck your mouth with that talent though. But down here -?” Jack says, giving a particularly sharp thrust against Rhys’ ass. The greedy desire to touch his own cock is rendering Rhys’ mind a fuzzy mess of surrendered inhibitions. “I can’t help but wonder if you’ve ever been _actually_ fucked.” Rhys shakes his head: _no ._ And Jack growls, letting the rocking sway of his hips pick up and become sloppy at the same time. Mercifully, the older male let’s go of Rhys’ arm and Rhys wastes no time slipping the hand into the front of his pajamas to grip his erection by the base and begin to stroke his cock in a carelessly quick pace, throwing everything to the wind as he moves his ass back into Jack’s movements to make the older groan, all while he continues to blow Jack’s fingers.

Rhys moans highly around the two digits as he feels the warmth of Jack’s come spurt across his lower back and pajama top. Thank god for the two layers. It takes so little for Rhys to finish several seconds after Jack. Jack pulls his fingers out, shiny with a thick sheen of saliva, and wipes them on Rhys’ shirt. But Rhys’ is too out of his mind currently to particularly care.

“Oh man, kiddo,” Jack is laughing behind Rhys after letting go of him completely to step away. The man is already tucked back in and looking perfect when Rhys’ turns around. “I cannot wait to _wreck_ you.” He says it so nonchalantly that there’s no way Rhys _can’t_ blush. Although it probably doesn’t show with how flushed Rhys can tell that he is. “Try not to look like a thoroughbred virgin there, Rhysie.” Jack notes with a cruel smirk, stepping towards Rhys - who swallows nervously but stays still at the movement.

“Try not to - to, uhm,” Rhys falters as Jack let’s the tip of his index finger trail across Rhys’ neck where his hand had been holding Rhys. “That’s a nice look on you, cupcake. Too bad it’s only a red print that’ll fade by noon tomorrow.” Jack says, voice dropping near a murmur as he eyes Rhys’ throat. “It’s going to look better when it’s a bruise.”

The promise in Jack’s words makes Rhys’ mouth feel dry. And Rhys’ throat becomes parched as his eyes flicker to Jack’s face. The other man’s eyes look glazed and distant, stare settled on Rhys’ apparently marked neck. And Rhys wants to see whatever film is flickering in Jack’s mis-matched irises.

“I’ve got some shit to handle off-site from Helios.” Jack says suddenly, catching Rhys off-guard. He furrows his eyebrows and then raises one as he waits for Jack to continue, Jack’s eye meeting his. “So - _stupid_ \- I’ll be gone for the next week and a half until I return to see your guys’ nerd-prodigy gun model enhancements in action.” Jack clarifies poorly. “When I get back -” The man’s lips quirk up with the start of a smirk. “I’m going to make sure ‘virgin’ is as ridiculous a label as ‘Eden-5 noble’ for you,’” Jack snickers. Rhys doesn’t appreciate the analogy but blushes harder all the same, at a loss for words.

“Alright.” Rhys replies hoarsely.

Jack rolls his eyes with a shake of his head as he turns from Rhys with a couple steps towards the door. “Amazing. Hot but awkward.” Jack sighs.

“What? I am - I am _not_ awkward.” Rhys sharply rebukes with offense. But Jack ignores him, waving a hand at him as the lab door slides open.

After using his soiled pajama button-up to clean up the mess Rhys had made on the table he decided he was certainly ready to sleep now, and yawned as he exited the room. A movement in another lab room several down from his catches Rhys attention. It was only noticeable because the door was left open, set to manual mode. It was probably the janitor, Rhys figured and let it slide from thought as he headed towards the elevator.

The time spent walking back only let the grogginess settle even more heavily on Rhys. By the time he returned to his suit Rhys couldn’t even fathom making the extra effort to wake up Fiona and Sasha, or Vaughn or Yvette. But a quick glance using Rhys’ ECHOeye informs him that he’s supposed to wake up in two and a half hours.

Seriously, why can’t Jack pick a decent time to have these ‘sessions’ with Rhys?

  
Two and a half hours. Rhys begs to differ. He sets his alarm for noon. Certainly none of the other sponsees will care if Rhys sleeps in.


End file.
